


Our Good Lady

by veewehchen



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Canon Compliant, Other, Slow Build, undetermined romance choice
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-04-29
Updated: 2016-05-02
Packaged: 2018-06-05 06:14:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,967
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6692812
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/veewehchen/pseuds/veewehchen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When we think of Tevinter, we usually think of two types of people – slaves, those who are oppressed, abused, malnourished and bent under the weight of an Imperium built on their crooked backs. And we think of the mages, the powerful elite of this foreign nation, probably members of the ominous magisterium, oppressing thousands of slaves and possibly using virgin blood in obscure rituals to further their own power. When I met our Lady Inquisitor for the first time, I was surprised to see: she was neither a slave nor a mage.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Stumbled Beginnings

_When we think of Tevinter, we usually think of two types of people – slaves, those who were oppressed, abused, malnourished and bent under the weight of an Imperium built on their crooked backs. And we think of the mages, the powerful elite of this foreign nation, probably members of the ominous magisterium, oppressing thousands of slaves and possibly using their blood in obscure rituals to further their own power. When I met our Lady Inquisitor for the first time, I was surprised to see: she was neither a slave nor a mage. Indeed, I never knew her all that well at all: and in hindsight I wonder: did any of us truly know every single corner of her heart?_

Everything had happened in a bright rush of emotions, information, pain and too much to take in. While an entire day had passed between her awakening in a cell and her losing consciousness at the Temple of Sacred Ashes after temporarily sealing the breach, it had felt like a rush of five wild minutes, always under the looming gloom of the breach above them. Even after the elven servant left the room, the young woman remained in bed, eyes closed in hopes that the pounding in her skull might pass quickly. Lady Cassandra... at once... It took her a few moments to remember. The Seeker, the one who'd been with her on the way to the ruins of the Temple. No, she had to get up and see what was going on. Slowly, the young woman sat up again and glanced around – this room had no mirror, and she could not see a comb right away. Her armor had been properly folded and placed on top of a chest. Neither any water for washing herself. It was known that the Southerners weren't the neatest people, but this...? Silently, the young woman got dressed, hastily combing with her fingers through golden tresses. If she was to face any sort of trial, she could not look like a shaggy street cat, and so she swiftly hid her unkempt state with a loose braid. What a disgrace, but this would have to do. In light of the current events, her hair should be the least of her concerns – she knew that all too well.

The rusty hinges of the door squeaked upon opening, and bright daylight forced her to squint before her eyes adjusted to the brightness. When she saw the people, her heart seemed to skip a beat – they stood there, whispering, talking, alert now that they saw... her. Slowly, she approached the two guards and remembered her upbringing. Keep your back straight. Don't lower your head. Moderate your steps. The young woman held her hands in front of her body gracefully, trying to mask her rising anxiety with calm indifference. Did these people hear her heart pounding in her chest violently? The last time so many eyes had been on her was easily fifteen years ago, when Mother still proudly presented her to her guests on the countless elegant dinner parties she hosted.

 _She came out of the fade!_ What happened? Maker, none of this should have happened - _Andraste herself was watching over her_! Despite her painfully empty stomach, she felt the need to retch. _They say that the Bride of the Maker has sent her to save us!_ Maker, let me wake up at home and remember this as wild dream. However, she did not wake up, and the madness of this situation only continued. To the Chantry... Too many people talking. The breach, the Chantry, the Conclave... and as she walked, every single muscle of her body strained in effort to keep her appearance of calm, she tried to remember what happened. The travel south, together with Lord Heynrich of Trevis was still vivid in her memory, as well as the first day in Haven, among hundreds of important people – merchants, members of the High Clergy, ambassadors of nations, representatives of the belligerent parties in the violent conflict between the renegade templars and the rebel mages... Admission to the second day of negotiations... and then... nothing.

In front of the Chantry, she had to pass a bunch of sisters (?), their glaring eyes only raising her high levels of discomfort. At least it was quieter inside – as soon as the doors slammed shut behind her, she leaned her back against the heavy wood and took a moment to calm down again. Countless candles illuminated the building in a warmer light than the baring sun outside. A deep breath. Time to face whatever came next. Voices led her steps – an argument. A hesitant knock, then she entered, wishing she could turn around and return to bed immediately. The man.. she remembered him. Even before, he'd taken a clear position: she was guilty and had to die. Yet luckily it seemed that Lady Pentaghast (and possibly this Leliana) had a kinder judgement for her, and the young woman kept herself out of the argument meekly. For a moment, she managed to stay out of it entirely, standing by the table with fingernails digging into her palm. Yet...

“You... you think I'm...?” A chosen one, sent by the grace of the Maker? An innocent bystander who got caught up in something too big for their comprehension? A part of her was inclined to believe the Chancellor was right – her survival a convenient coincidence, nothing else. Yet at the same time, how sweet would it be if the Lady Seeker spoke truth... She, always so plain, now a Savior by divine Grace. Whether coincidence or providence, she still had no true say in the events that followed – what she witnessed was the beginning of a chapter in her life of greater importance than she could ever have imagined.

The newly formed Inquisition had five pillars: Lady Cassandra Pentaghast, whose iron will seemed to be strong enough to carry them all. Sister Leliana, whose agents would gather vital information that would help their young organization survive. Miss Josephine Montilyet, who knew that kind words could build bridges into a better future. Commander Cullen Rutherford, who would be in charge of their armed forces. And last, but certainly not least.... the one they would soon start calling Herald of Andraste, a young woman from Tevinter who presented herself as Janna Aurell.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you very much for deciding to read through the end - and as welcome, a short preview of the next Chapter which will have more actual content than this introduction. 
> 
> ______  
> "How are you holding up? I mean, you go from being the most wanted criminal of Thedas to joining the armies of the Faithful. Most people would spread that out over more than one day."  
> The question sure was meant well - and yet, Janna hesitated. What was she meant to say? That all of this was too much? That she was scared and wanted to go home? Between a natural instinct to trust the dwarf and the notion that a facade of calm always had to be maintained, she was at a loss of words. Like any young woman of her standing, she knew how to act if she ever found herself in the unfortunate situation of being kept hostage. However, no one had ever prepared her for the unlikely case that a foreign religion decided to raise her to the status of Savior by Divine Providence.


	2. Chapter 2

The Inquisition…. Janna still wasn't sure what part she was meant to play in it. Leliana and Josephine both had letters to write, and the Commander would have to find more recruits for their troops. In between, she stood, not sure of what to do with herself. She knew a moment later: Josephine asked to meet her in her office once she had time for some talk.  

The Seeker left with the Commander first, Leliana and Josephine returned to their work and Janna was left standing in the war room.  
Her fingertips slid over the map in front of her. There, Val Royaux, on the other end of the map, Denerim. North, she could see Kirkwall – but not home. With luck, their operations would be limited to western Ferelden and eastern Orlais. If the breach remained sealed and did not broaden, maybe they would be spared a greater involvement on national levels. Right now, she would prefer if everything remained regional.

After a few minutes of blissful silence, she left the room – then, the door to the right, as indicated by Miss Josephine just a bit before.

“You wished to talk to me, Miss Montilyet?” Janna felt almost shy when entering the room, and closed the heavy door as quietly as she could. In this place, she was nothing but a stranger. Not like home...  
“Yes. That must be all very overwhelming for you. Are you alright?”  
“As you have put it. This is just... very overwhelming.”  
“I can imagine. Still, I need to ask a couple of questions about you, before you can go and have some rest, if you wish. Please, do take a seat.”  
The young woman nodded and pulled over a chair to sit in front of Josephine’s desk. Not unlike...   
“You are from Tevinter, right? Aurell sounds vaguely familiar.”  
“Yes... That is.. my mother’s family.Formally, I am Janna Lucretia of the Everii.. but.. I felt like just Janna Aurell was...”  
“Handier? No false modesty - the Inquisition is bound to attract much attention in the coming days and weeks. Another question is - Cassandra did not mention you using any magic while you were fighting your way through towards the breach.”  
Of course, she had to ask about this dreadful topic. Janna bi her lower lip. No, here, this was good. Despite her lack of general experience, she knew the way people thought of Tevinter here in the south.  
“That is.. because I am not a mage.”  
If josephine knew what this meant, especially for a woman of such heritage, then she had the decency to not comment on it - at least not now.  
“That would be.. all for now, then. You should have some rest. Do you need anything?”  
“A bath and a scribe would be wonderful, to be honest. I... will have to write a couple of letters. And I wanted to ask about the room I rented in the tavern before the conclave.”  
“We did not have time to.. everything should be still where it has been. The third room on the left of the upper floor, was it?”  
“Yes, exactly.. I would like to keep using that one, if that’s alright.”  
“Of course. I can have someone run you a bath there, and send over a scribe a bit later, if you want?”  
“Yes, Miss Josephine, I would be very grateful. I am sorry if I am not... the most eloquent right now. This is very much to process right at the moment.”  
“I understand, Janna - it’s alright to address you by first name, isn’t it? Now, go, we will soon have lots of work ahead of us. Until then, you should use the small time-out to rest and familiarize yourself with Haven and the people, if you want. Also, visit our Smith, Harrit, right outside the village’s gates.”  
“Of course... Thank you very much, Miss M-”  
“Just call me Josephine.”  
“...Josephine. I will do. Thank you very much- we will.. talk later then, yes?”  
“Yes, I look forward to it very much. I will see you later.”

Slowly, Janna left the office, heart still pounding in her chest nervously. At home, everything was easy and familiar, and she could stay mostly to herself. Here, however... 

All of this was too much, clearly, and she was still deeply troubled by this absolute failure of social graces when she as held up by – yes. Despite the rush of everything, she remembered the dwarf who stood near the campfire Varric. The dwarf with the…

"How are you holding up? I mean, you go from being the most wanted criminal of Thedas to joining the armies of the Faithful. Most people would spread that out over more than one day."  
The question sure was meant well - and yet, Janna hesitated. What was she meant to say? That all of this was too much? That she was scared and wanted to go home? Between a natural instinct to trust the dwarf and the notion that a facade of calm always had to be maintained, she was at a loss of words. Like any young woman of her standing, she knew how to act if ever finding herself in the unfortunate situation of being kept hostage by hostile parties. However, no one had ever prepared her for the unlikely case that a foreign religion decided to raise her to the status of Savior by Divine Providence.  
“This is a bit… very much to take in, to be honest. For now, I am happy that we are alive and the Breach is stable. And you? How do you feel about all of this?"  
"There's a hole in the sky, and we're a rebel organization grouped around the only person who survived this explosion that killed the highest ranking members of the Chantry, among with other very important people. That's some ugly chaos we got here - I have seen enough disasters to know when I see one."  
"And yet you are still here? Most people I know would be preoccupied with saving themselves."  
“Thousands of people died on that mountain, and I could almost have been one of them, and now this hole in the sky – I would like to call myself as selfish and irresponsible as your average Joe, but this? You can't just walk away from that.”

Janna always liked to think of herself as a good person. Were they good people? Lady Cassandra who seemed to feel genuinely passionate about this? Miss Josephine who would do her best to strive for peaceful cooperation? Varric who remained despite the danger? And what about her? If she ran – or only remained because she had no other choice, then would she still be one of the people who were there because they were good ?  
“You're right,” she finally agreed after a brief moment of thought. In the cold mountain air, near someone who might be similarly lost, she felt under a lesser pressure than with the four who would lead the Inquisition.

“I'm sorry, Varric – I'd really love to talk to you later, but now, I really need a bath. I feel like…”  
“Chewed through and spit out again?”  
“Yes, exactly. Oh and… Tomorrow or so, I have to leave for a small trip to the Hinterlands. Will you come too, please?”  
“Anytime. Now, go and enjoy your bath, then. We will have plenty of time to talk later.”

After a short walk through Haven, she returned to the Tavern, and up the stairs. The second room to the left – she was delighted to find a tub of steaming water in the center of the room. Towels. Soap. A flannel – whoever had set the bath up, really thought of everything. Swiftly, Janna crouched down in front of her chest and dug through her clothes, until she found her dressing gown, which she neglectfully tossed on the ground near the tub.

During the bath, she realized that there was more than just the cold and foreign customs she would need to get accustomed to: here, without her slaves, she would have to do everything herself. Doing her hair, getting dressed, washing – countless menial tasks she never really had to do herself.

_That day, I met her for the first time. I took the steps to the rented rooms calmly, carrying papers, quills, ink – everything I needed for writing. The Lady Inquisitor, back then not even Herald yet, sat by the vanity table, and I only saw wet hair and her face in the mirror. A young, quite aristocratic face – politely, I averted my gaze._

_“You requested a scribe, Ma'am?”_  
_“Yes. Take seat by the table. Do you write Tevene?”_  
_“No, my Lady.”_  
_“That… is unfortunate. Start the first letter.” She sat there, brushing through wet strands. I sat down, and prepared everything for writing._

 _“Dearest Madam Margret of Trevis – With greatest regret, I have to inform you - …”_  
_It must be a letter to someone whose husband died at the conclave, though I was mostly focused on writing fast and accurate. Such is the profession of a scribe: invisible if you did your job right._  
_“Yours sincerely, capital J point capital L point small o point Everii. Written with two i's. Put it to the side, I will sign it later. Next letter.”_

_I placed the sheet of paper aside, and prepared the next one, oddly eager to hear more._

_“Dearest Mother, Most likely you already heard of the events at the Conclave, so I will not repeat them. Do not fear for me, I am alive and in safety…. “_  
_The letter was oddly impersonal, I noticed. A brief overview of the situation, yet without genuine feeling. I have been working as scribe for long enough to know when people were falling into polite talk for the sake of it._  
_“… in these dire times, your advice would be most appreciated, and I will wait for your response patiently. In love, your daughter. J point L point. Now, look over the letters again.”_

 _I did as told, and made a second copy of each, neater than the first, correcting a couple of mistakes I'd made in the haste of keeping up. “I am done, My Lady.”_  
_" Thank you – please, leave one sheet of paper here on the desk when you go.”_

After Janna was done with brushing and combing her hair (until it was almost dry again), she rose to stroll over to the table. The two letters, one for Trevis' widow and one for her mother, were both to her satisfaction. Slowly, she sat down and reached out for her own quill. Some things could only be confessed to one person in the world, and were not meant for the ears or eyes of any bystanders.

_Dearest Mikhael._

_I am afraid and I wish you were here right now – I did not want to admit it to mother, but I need you here. All of you, even if I know that this would be impossible. Now, more than ever, I am taken by wild homesickness. Here, I am among strangers, strangers who hope I can_   
_save them. The truth is, I do not know whether I can, and what they will do if I do not comply. Haven't I been the Prime suspect after all? Now, it seems as if the Inquisition's leaders at least believe in my Innocence. Yet despite the breach in the sky, which words cannot begin to describe, despite this danger right above my head, I want to run home [....]_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am very sorry for the delay on this chapter - while I am embarrassed to admit, I had trouble finding a beta reader, and should any of my readers be interested in helping me out for future chapters, i would be incredibly thankful if they came forward and contacted me via PM.  
> One way or another, thank you very much for reading.


End file.
